


Sign My Heart

by luluthebrave



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Dual POV, Human AU, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luluthebrave/pseuds/luluthebrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because your soulmate's signature is written on your wrist, doesn't mean it gets any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stiles

“Okay, but is this an ‘I’ or a ‘D’? Because this signature is so bad… Scott, whoever this is better be a doctor when they grow up, because that is the only way their handwriting will ever be acceptable…” Stiles complained as he walked down the hallway next to the far-too-lucky Scott McCall.

 

“Stiles, you turned eighteen like three days ago and you’ve already completely analyzed your soulmate’s signature?” Scott shook his head with a soft laugh and rested his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “You just need breathe, man.”

 

“Easy for you to say, you found your soulmate before turning eighteen because Allison’s a year older.”

 

“Yeah, I know…” Scott grinned that goofy grin he got whenever Allison was mentioned.

 

Stiles couldn’t stand that grin. He shrugged off Scott’s hand. “Your asthma decides to take a break and all of sudden, you’ve got the best life ever…” He grumbled.

 

“Hey, man, you’re still my best friend,” Scott reminded.

 

“Yeah, I know.” He shook his head with a laugh and started away from Scott to his first class. “See you at lunch!”

 

Stiles sat down at his desk in the exact center of the room and pulled up his shirt sleeve to analyze the signature on his wrist for the umpteenth time in the past four days.  Yeah, he was a little obsessed with it, but could you blame him? This was who he was going to spend the rest of his life with and he could not, for the life of him, decipher the messy handwriting on his wrist. It was a mystery that needed to be solved right now.

 

All he could really make out from the sloppy cursive was ‘Something-something-a-something- something L-something-something-something-y.’ Four letters. He could make out four letters of the presumable ten. What an asshole, this person was, for having such a shitty signature.

 

Well, his probably wasn’t any better, either. After all, his signature included his real name, which was more like a keyboard smash than a name, and his cursive was really just a bunch of guesswork.

 

Right, so he had no right to complain.

 

But he still wanted to figure out this mystery before whoever his soulmate is got their tattoo (or whatever this mystical voodoo stuff that appeared on their wrists at eighteen was). This was also assuming that whoever his soulmate is is younger than him.

 

He sighed and returned his sleeve over his wrist. Just in time for the bell to ring and their teacher to start talking. Of course, Stiles wasn’t paying much attention either way. His ‘notes’ were just random words and various doodles and scribbles in his notebook. At least he looked like he was paying attention.

 

Because, apparently, Isaac wasn’t paying any attention and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Stiles jerked his head up at the sudden exclamation from his teacher and turned to look at the back corner where Isaac Lahey sat with a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

 

“Isaac, tell me, what are three signs of an autism spectrum disorder?”

 

“Uh…” The boy fixed his glasses, brown and circular--they looked like they were from the ninety-fifties, but he pulled them off, and quickly flipped to a page in his notebook. “U-Unusual or inappropriate body language, gestures, and facial expressions; difficulty communicating needs or desires, a-and uh…” He flipped his page over and fixed his glasses again. “A strong need for sameness, order, and routines.” He looked up at the teacher with raised eyebrows, as if to ask if he was correct.

 

Their teacher sighed and nodded. “Very good, Mr. Lahey…”

 

Everyone turned to look away from Isaac again, but Stiles still stayed fixated on the other boy. He was in two of his other classes and he always sat in the far left corner, in the very back of each classroom. He didn’t talk much, but when he did he tended to stumble over his words. He was on the lacrosse team and surprisingly exceptional at it, though he was always unusually bruised or beat up everyday. There was no way those injuries were from practise. Stiles frowned and turned back around.

 

Where did those wounds come from? Now Stiles was curious. He wanted to solve this second mystery now. Anything to get his mind off of this signature on his wrist. Did Isaac have a signature, too? Or was he younger?

 

Oh, no.

 

Stiles shook those thoughts of his head as he bounced his legs and tried to pay attention the lecture.

 

At some point during the class, he decided to invite Isaac to have lunch with them. For some strange reason, he wanted to solve Isaac’s mystery all of the sudden.

 

 


	2. Isaac

Isaac didn’t know what to do when Stiles came over to talk to him. What did he do? Did Stiles figure out what was written on his wrist? No, no. Not now, not yet. He fixed his glasses and swallowed dryly to prepare himself.

 

“Hey… Isaac?” Stiles asked and rubbed the back of his neck.

 

Isaac could see the tattoo on his wrist when he moved his hand up to touch his neck. That was his. He nodded slowly. “Y-Yeah…?” He asked quietly and slid the sleeves of his sweater over his wrists.

 

“You wanna eat lunch with me and my friends?”

 

Was this his way of saying ‘I know and I’m making an attempt’? Or was there an ulterior motive to all of this? Stiles hardly ever looked at him and now he wanted him to sit at the cool kids’ table?

 

“Yeah, sure.” Isaac offered up a weak smile and started to pack up his stuff so that they could head to the cafeteria. He stood up and fixed his glasses nervously.

 

“Great.” Stiles nodded and moved to lead Isaac out of the classroom and into the cafeteria.

 

The entire way to the cafeteria, Isaac tapped on the shoulder strap of his bag. They didn’t talk and he was just highly confused. He noticed that Stiles kept looking at his wrist with a look of confusion and he thought that maybe he hadn’t figured it out yet. Maybe Isaac’s signature was just illegible enough to leave him in the dark.

 

Thank God.

 

Stiles took Isaac’s hand to lead him to his friends in the cafeteria and Isaac felt like he was going to explode. This tingling sensation moved from his fingertips, up his arm, and to the rest of his body. Stiles had to have felt it, too.

 

Not yet.

 

Isaac pulled away, though he didn’t quite want to, and cleared his throat. Why did he do that?

 

“S-Sorry…” Stiles apologised quickly and just gestured for Isaac to follow him to the table in the center of the cafeteria where everyone Isaac envied sat laughing and smiling.

 

Isaac adjusted his glasses as he sat down next to Stiles in the middle of his chaos.

 

“Are you Stiles’ soulmate?” Scott asked with a genuine smile and a gleam in his eye as Isaac got situated.

 

The blue eyed boy almost choked. “E-Excuse me?” How did he know?

 

Stiles instantly went in to save him. “No, I just thought he’d like to sit with us.” His hand rested on Isaac’s shoulder and again came that sensation, except now starting from his shoulder and spreading out.

 

It was like how he imagined being struck by lightning would feel, except in a pleasurable, non-lethal, way. Was this a normal thing that happened when soulmates touched? Was it meant to feel like he was going to combust because the warmth of his partner’s touch was just so brilliant or was this something only he felt and understood? Either way, he wanted Stiles to keep his hand there and yet he still wanted him to remove it and never touch him again.

 

He supposed he was the only one who didn’t accept their soulmate, but he was sure his soulmate wasn’t going to accept him.

 

Yet the urge to come clean to Stiles, to tell him what he had known for months was strong and he just wanted to spill it, to let it all out and hope to God that he wouldn’t laugh in his face.

 

“Isaac!”

 

He heard a strange voice calling his name and it seemed so distant, but so close to him. He blinked and the table of teenagers was in focus again. “Huh?”

 

“I asked what your favourite colour was,” Allison said with a smile as she reached across the table to nudge his shoulder, which no longer had Stiles’ hand on it. “But apparently you completely spaced out…”

  
“Yeah, sorry.” Isaac smiled weakly and ran his fingers through his hair. “My favourite colour is blue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and kudos are always appreciated! You can also follow me on Tumblr for other various shenanigans: http://luluthebrave.tumblr.com/


	3. Stiles

Something was… weird.

 

Well, everything was always weird, but something was definitely  _ bizarre _ with Isaac. Stiles had the urge to wrap himself around the other, to force his way under that stupid cardigan and stay there for a while. Every time he made the decision to touch him (which was odd, considering he hardly even touched his closest friends), he wanted to keep touching him, to leave his hand where it was. But Isaac just seemed so  _ uncomfortable _ . His eyes were always so wide and…  _ scared _ .

 

Why was he scared?

 

All Stiles wanted to do was be Isaac’s friend and unravel his mystery, distract himself from the signature on his wrist. Yet every time his thoughts came to Isaac, they wandered to his wrist. He intended to ask the blue eyed boy about it when lunch was over, but before he had the chance to even take a breath, Isaac was long gone.

 

_ Odd,  _ he thought. 

 

He went the rest of the day wondering about the boy with the glasses and the fearful eyes and what was written on his wrist, if anything. 

 

That’s why he ended up bouncing on his heels in the boy’s locker room before lacrosse practise, waiting to see the tuft of curls in the doorway. He needed to talk to Isaac, to unravel at least one of the balls of yarn in his head. He chewed on his bottom lip as he just stood there, watching and waiting.

 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Isaac walked into the locker room. And he was not going to get away from Stiles this time. Stiles practically leaped across the room to corner Isaac against the lockers.

 

Isaac’s eyes became impossibly wide and fearful as he looked down at Stiles with his back pressed against the cold lockers.

 

“Show me your wrist,” Stiles demanded and reached out for Isaac’s left arm.

 

Isaac didn’t move, only shook his head frantically. “No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because it’s none of your business.”

 

Stiles didn’t take that for an answer and grabbed Isaac’s arm anyway. Isaac tried to pull away, but Stiles just held his arm steadily and slid up the sleeve of his sweater. What he saw, he almost couldn’t comprehend. His full name, keyboard smash and all, precariously written along Isaac’s wrist. “I--” He didn’t know what to do, to say. For once in his life, he was speechless and frozen in… He didn’t know what it was. Relief? Anger? Love?  _ Something. _

 

Isaac took the moment to pull his arm away and cover his wrist again. “Yeah.”

 

“You… Me.” Stiles closed his mouth for a second so that he could swallow dryly, run his fingers through his hair. “We’re soulmates.” The corner of his lips went up as he said it and finally wrapped his head around the idea. Isaac wasn’t the worst person to have as a soulmate, he was like a very adorable, very tall, puppy. A puppy who also happened to be very smart and athletic.

 

“W-What?” Isaac asked as he looked down at Stiles, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked so confused and Stiles had the urge to kiss that look off of his face.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles pushed at the other boy’s shoulder with wide eyes. “And  _ why _ is your signature so shitty?”

 

For a brief second, Stiles actually saw a  _ hint _ of a smile grace Isaac’s lips, but it washed away just as quickly as it had appeared. “You don’t want me, Stiles. You don’t want my baggage.”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Isaac, we’re soulmates.” He shook his head, like it was supposed to be obvious. “Of course I want you and all of your baggage. That’s the entire point.” Stiles took one of Isaac’s hands with a small smile and he could feel that urge to stay there forever run through his entire body. “And you don’t get to decide that for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and kudos are always appreciated! You can also follow me on Tumblr for other various shenanigans: http://luluthebrave.tumblr.com/


	4. Isaac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a long time since i've updated this. the next two chapters are actually rewrites of the original fourth and fifth chapters. i realized that i didn't like the abruptness of isaac's switches and my writing style has changed since they were first written. anywho, i hope you enjoy.

The want to stay there forever was far too overwhelming for Isaac. His entire body felt like it was fire as he looked down at the boy who he was meant to love for the rest of their lives, who was destined to, for whatever ungodly reason, love him unconditionally forever.

Or at least, that’s what the books all say.

But no one ever talked about the poor unfortunate souls who never got a tattoo, who were destined to die alone. They never wrote about the people whose soulmates died before they ever met. They never wondered what would happen if soulmates didn’t accept each other.

There would always be flaws in the system.

This would have to be one of them. This soulmate thing had to be wrong. Isaac wasn’t wanted. Stiles wouldn’t want him. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but Stiles was sorely wrong about wanting all of his baggage.

“Stiles…” He shook his head. “No, you don’t want this, me…” He used his free hand to run his fingers through his hair. 

Stiles sighed, shook his head, and took Isaac’s other hand in his. “Isaac. I am a hopeless romantic, believe it or not, and I’m not going to give up, alright?” He let go of Isaac’s hands to wrap his arms around the taller boy’s torso.

Okay.

Isaac took a moment to wrap his head around what was happening. In that moment, the enticing sensation of their touch led him to believe that this could work-- they could work. But just as quickly as the thought entered his mind, it was twisted and turned around. How could any of this work?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what happens behind closed doors, when he goes home. This won’t work. He can’t have hope.

With that in mind, Isaac pushed the shorter by off of his body. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t deal with this. Before Stiles could react, the blond ran out of the locker room-- despite the anxiety that rose in his chest for skipping practice. If his father found out, he would surely be killed. 

Yet, he ran. He ran through the halls and out of the front door of the school. He ran all the way to the park down the street, where he found himself sitting on a bench, staring at the name scrawled on his wrist. He didn’t know how he got there, or why he had ran there. But, there he stayed with glossy eyes and a racing heart with the new root of his problems staring him in the face. If only he had been given a little bit more time.

A little bit more time before Stiles found out.


	5. Stiles

“Isaac--” The sudden loss of contact to the tall blond made Stiles’ heart sink into his stomach. A second passed as he watched the other run out before he followed. He hardly cared for lacrosse practice or the teammates who were more than likely confused to see the two running out of the school.

It was hard to keep up because he just so happened to have soulmate with much longer legs and athleticism. Halfway down the street, he had to stop to catch his breath while he watched Isaac turn into the park. At least he knew where he was. 

Once Stiles reached the park, he recognized the blond curly top of Isaac’s head on one of the benches.

He sat next to Isaac. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

It took a moment for the other to respond-- the brunet noticed that he was staring at the signature on his wrist. “What?” he asked as his gaze finally moved to meet Stiles’ eyes.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Because I hardly know you,” Isaac admitted softly. “You can’t just act like we’ve known each other forever when the only thing that connects us are the signatures on our wrists. I know nothing about you... you know nothing about me.”

Stiles’ entire stomach dropped, mouth agape at the boy next to him. Why was he so resistant again? Who hurt him so much that he didn’t want anything to do with the person he was supposed to be destined to love? The feeling of complete and utter rejection overwhelmed him. It was like he was drowning in hatred from Isaac.

But Stiles also saw something behind those brown glasses, in those icy blue eyes. It didn’t look like hatred, it looked liked an apology. As if Isaac was sorry that he couldn’t know Stiles and that he wasn’t good enough for him. 

This wasn’t Isaac’s choice, though. He wasn’t going to just push Stiles away, not now and not ever. Isaac was his soulmate, through and through. Nothing was going to change that. 

Not even Isaac.

“Then let’s get to know each other, okay? We don’t have to jump straight into it, if you don’t want. We can go slow…”

The blue eyed boy shook his head vehemently. “No, you’re not-- not gonna want me… Why should we extend the pain? Let’s just stop it here. Not let this go any further.”

“Isaac.” Stiles pulled his legs onto the bench and crossed them over each other. “Stop with this crazy self-deprecation talk. I get to make the choice on rather or not I want you. Not you.”

There was a moment pause where it seemed like Isaac was thinking. “Well, what-- what if I don’t want you?”

That really hit Stiles. Sure, he wasn’t exactly the ideal soulmate, but he didn’t think that he was such a bad one. He supposed that he always assumed that he would be accepted, because that’s how all the stories played out. 

Then again, there were always exceptions, weren’t there?

He took in a deep breath. “Well, how about you get to know me and decide after?” He asked, a hopeful glint in his eye. 

Isaac took another moment to think, Stiles could see the gears turning in his head and it was just enough to make him perk up a bit.

The other boy let out a quiet sigh and nodded. “Okay…” he agreed as he looked down to his hands.

Stiles’ heartbeat fluttered and, despite his instinct to embrace Isaac, he merely smiled at the agreement. “Thank you.”  
He wasn’t sure what he was thanking Isaac for, but it felt right to say. Perhaps it was because he was willing to give him, them, a chance. Or maybe it was because Isaac hadn’t completely stomped on his heart just yet.


End file.
